Before the Coffee, the Calm
Taken just after 4am on a humid June morning deep in the Catskills, this moment arrived before the sun had even stretched its rays above the hills. I had expected drama — stormy clouds, radiant bursts of light, maybe even a goose doing something heroic — but instead I got this: a serene wash of pastels, mirrored perfectly on the still lake, as if the world hadn’t quite woken up yet.
This image has become a personal favorite and a kind of sunrise benchmark for my future visits. It’s not loud. It’s not flashy. It’s just… still. And in that stillness, everything feels exactly right.
Taken just after 4am on a humid June morning deep in the Catskills, this moment arrived before the sun had even stretched its rays above the hills. I had expected drama — stormy clouds, radiant bursts of light, maybe even a goose doing something heroic — but instead I got this: a serene wash of pastels, mirrored perfectly on the still lake, as if the world hadn’t quite woken up yet.
This image has become a personal favorite and a kind of sunrise benchmark for my future visits. It’s not loud. It’s not flashy. It’s just… still. And in that stillness, everything feels exactly right.
Taken just after 4am on a humid June morning deep in the Catskills, this moment arrived before the sun had even stretched its rays above the hills. I had expected drama — stormy clouds, radiant bursts of light, maybe even a goose doing something heroic — but instead I got this: a serene wash of pastels, mirrored perfectly on the still lake, as if the world hadn’t quite woken up yet.
This image has become a personal favorite and a kind of sunrise benchmark for my future visits. It’s not loud. It’s not flashy. It’s just… still. And in that stillness, everything feels exactly right.